The Marriage of Lanayru
by rynling
Summary: At the end of Twilight Princess, Hyrule is politically unstable and in ruins. Instead of having Link kill Ganondorf, Zelda decides to marry him. Both Zelda and Ganondorf act according to their own interests, but perhaps they are not as ill-suited for each other as they assume. Zelgan smut with a bit of speculative worldbuilding.
1. A Marriage of Convenience

Zelda stood in front of her throne, her hands delicately positioned on the hilt of her ceremonial sword. Above her head, the marble statue of the Triforce was perched precariously over the royal dais. It had never fallen even in the most catastrophic assaults on Hyrule Castle, and it would not fall today. When she was a young girl, the threat of the cold stone looming overhead had filled Zelda with fear whenever she was called to attend the king at the head of the Great Hall. Her father's throne was now hers. Soon she would no longer be a princess, but a queen.

Zelda gripped the hilt of her sword tighter, pulling the fabric of her gloves against her knuckles. The slight movement of her muscles caused her ornamental pauldrons to shift and rub uncomfortably against the delicate skin of her clavicles. The pins holding her crown in place bit into her scalp, and there was a slight itch at her hairline from the irritation caused by the metal plating. She worried that the heavy bronze metalwork at the waist of her gown was pulling her bodice out of place, but it was beneath her dignity to glance down and check.

She held her back straight and glared down the bridge of her nose at the crowd before her. Representatives from every tribe and province of Hyrule had come to witness her address at the conclusion of the long siege of the usurper king Zant. The kingdom's nobility had finally emerged from hiding, donning finery that had somehow escaped the ravages of war. Commoners of high standing stood shoulder to shoulder with the members of her court who would once have haughtily shunned their company. These were a people still recovering from the shock of the enormous blow that had been dealt to them, the peace of their lives shattered when the very sky cracked open and Twilight poured down onto their homes.

As she waited for the last few murmurs to fall silent, Zelda's thoughts turned to Link, the hero who had delivered them from despair. By all rights he should have been here too, but she was grateful that she did not have to face him as she announced the decision she had made. When she first looked into his eyes as a wolf and saw the human heart that animated his spirit, Zelda knew that she had finally found someone she could trust, and now, only months later, she felt as if she were betraying that trust. She thought of Midna, twin of her heart and sharer of her secrets, and wondered how the princess of the Twilight Realm would handle this situation.

Scanning her eyes over the faces in the assembly, Zelda could make out the members of her personal guard, the men and women who had called themselves "the Resistance." Proud Ashei, bookish Shad, kindly Rusl, forbidding Auru, and mighty Telma – they had not given up on her, even when all hope seemed lost. More than anyone else in the crowd, they seemed apprehensive, each of them positioned close to the entrances to the Great Hall, armed and prepared to fight should something unexpected occur. As for everyone else in the immense room, there was no struggle left in their eyes, merely exhaustion. Hyrule had seen dark times, and the people were too weak to do anything except to hope for a brighter future.

As their princess, Zelda understood that it was her role to embody that hope. They expected her to promise that the difficult days were in the past, and that the kingdom would soon enter a new age of prosperity. Earlier that morning, when the first rays of sunlight had barely crossed the castle's outer walls, she instructed her maidservants to apply a light dusting of powder to her face, asking them to mix finely ground minerals into the pigment. After having spent so much time in the shrouded realm between life and death, her skin had lost its natural luster. Perhaps it would return eventually, but she could not wait. She needed to shine today, to radiate a light bright enough to drive back the shadows that surrounded her.

 _As we have sown, so have we reaped_ , she thought, gritting her teeth and raising her chin. This was her fate, to have been born a princess of Hyrule, a crumbling kingdom slowly slouching its way into obscurity. Not all of the castle staff had returned after the Bulblins removed themselves from the corridors and courtyards, which were still littered with broken blades and the remains of campfires. The floors and pillars of the Great Hall bore traces of the battles that had raged here, and no one had bothered to conceal the dusty piles of fallen masonry. People would surely speak of these things later, these small manifestations of the disorder that had plagued the monarchy long before the war. How difficult it was to move forward with the weight of the past dragging behind her every step.

Another flash of anxiety raced through Zelda's mind. Would the chips in the gold foil on her crown be visible? Was the patched hem on the train of her gown properly concealed? How noticeable were the dark crescents under her eyes? Not that it mattered; she knew that she was not the object of the piercing gazes cast in the direction of the towering throne.

Zelda raised her hand to silence the crowd, which quieted immediately in anticipation of her words. She steeled herself and took a deep breath.

"Gentlemen and peers of Hyrule, noble lords and ladies. I thank you all for gathering here today. I have called you to my castle, this magnificent symbol of our kingdom's glorious history, to deliver a pronouncement that will affect us all as we move bravely forward into a new golden age of lasting peace. I hereby announce to you, my subjects and my friends, that a week from today I will marry the man standing beside me, the Gerudo lord Ganondorf Dragmire."


	2. An Inconvenient Arrangement

"A week from today I will marry the man standing beside me, the Gerudo lord Ganondorf Dragmire."

Zelda took Ganondorf's hand and tilted her head to gaze up at him. The lilt of her eyes and the faint smile on her lips conveyed respect and adoration. By Din's Fire, the woman was as skilled an actress as any he had ever met.

The domed ceiling that had projected her voice across the Great Hall now began to amplify the worried mutterings from the crowd. "What do these Hylian sheep expect me to do now?" Ganondorf whispered under his breath, so softly that only Zelda could hear him.

"Kiss me, Fiancé," she murmured in response. "Demonstrate your affection."

"Very well," he growled. He stepped toward her, allowing his foot to fall heavily on the marble of the dais. The metallic rattle of his armor echoed across the hall.

Zelda pushed him back ever so subtly with a twist of her fingers. "But gently. Do not frighten them," she hissed, striking the point of her sword against the floor to underscore her point.

"As Her Highness commands." He bent his head down to hers, but she stopped him once again.

"Do not be common," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with a fierce light. "You will kneel and kiss the hand I have offered you."

Ganondorf's face twisted in anger, but he caught himself, relaxing his muscles and smoothing the deep lines around his eyes and nose. He had given Zelda his word as the once and future Gerudo king that he would not cause a disturbance at this assembly, but an oath on the name of his tribe no longer meant much to him, just as it would never mean anything to her. She would do well to fear him, but now was not the time to make a demonstration of the power he held over her. Ganondorf knew full well that they were treading over the same thin sheet of ice; their only guarantee of safety was that neither would upset the balance without warning.

And so the king of an ancient land, resplendent in his crown and armor, knelt at the feet of the woman whom people had begun to deride as "the Twilight Princess." As he bent his knee he noticed that the hem of her gown had been recently mended and improperly stitched. Ganondorf suppressed a sneer of distaste. A Gerudo queen would never have allowed such an oversight.

There were Gerudo still in this world, he was certain of it; his people were not so easily killed. They had vanished so completely from Hyrule, however, that even the name of the tribe was no longer known. When Zelda introduced him as "the Gerudo lord," no one would have understood that meant, a fact Zelda used in her favor – and, he supposed, in his. He hated her for it.

Ganondorf took the fingers of Zelda's hand lightly in his own and touched his lips to the sapphire ring she wore over the thin fabric of her gloves. Before drawing away, he raised his gaze to hers. Zelda's face was perfectly blank, but he caught a tiny twitch of disgust at the corner of her eye. _This is what she gets for marrying a monster_ , he thought, taking pleasure in her discomfort.

He rose to his feet without looking at her again, and together they faced the waiting assembly. Their demonstration was met with an absolute silence. No one moved; no one even breathed. The eyes of the people in the crowd were empty, and more than a few mouths gaped open, as if they could not mentally process the shock of the blow that had been dealt to them. What slow and stupid creatures the people of Hyrule were. It was no wonder that even a rash and imperceptive fool like Zant was able to take the throne. Ganondorf felt a twinge in his heart, and it took him a moment to identify the sensation. Could it be that he actually felt sorry for Zelda? The woman was prepared to give everything she had to these people, yet they offered her nothing in return.

Toward the back of the Great Hall, someone started clapping. This initial show of support was echoed by several sets of hands stationed toward the exits – Zelda's personal guard, no doubt. After this first stream of applause trickled into the room, it quickly swelled into a roar. Ganondorf had been given precious little time to familiarize himself with the customs of this era, but even he knew enough to know that these people were clapping in nervous relief at an awkward situation having been avoided. He could see from the way their eyes failed to alight on his face that he was still an outsider to them. Surely Zelda was not so naïve that she failed to understand that his strangeness would be transferred to her as well.

Ganondorf glanced down at her. "They insult us," he muttered.

Zelda shifted slightly to look back up at him. Her eyes were wide and her pupils were dilated, as if she were overcome with happiness. She must have applied some sort of eye drops to achieve the effect, the clever woman.

"Smile," she said to him. "They may not know you, but they adore me. I am your fiancée now. Do not dishonor me." She raised her voice to say this, knowing that no one could make out her words. As far as the spectators were concerned, she had just uttered a declaration of love.

"They didn't adore you when this castle was under siege," he couldn't stop himself from responding in irritation. "When I found you here you were alone. Your people abandoned you, just as children leave behind a broken toy that no longer interests them. Do not expect me to coddle them."

The pale skin on Zelda's cheekbones flushed, but she said nothing in reply. She simply kept smiling as she dropped his hand and raised her own to wave in a polite acknowledgment of the applause of her subjects, a cacophony of flesh intensified by the hard surfaces of the cold stone hanging above their heads.


	3. A Fine and Private Friendship

_Every monarch has at least two faces_ , Zelda thought. There was the face she wore in public, a flawless porcelain mask. This mask could not be allowed to slip under any circumstances, for weakness invites dissension. Underneath this outer mask she wore a more intimate mask, the mask of the girl she had once been. This mask was lighter and softer against her skin, and she had borne it for so long that she wasn't certain she even remembered her real face.

Zelda peeled off her long silk outer gloves, not caring that she was turning them inside out. She tossed them onto the floor, where they lay on the thin carpet like tired animals. She then pulled off her cotton inner gloves, balled them up, and threw them with their companions. It had been a long day, and she was done with being a princess. As she stretched her arms and yawned, she looked out over the tiled roofs and gables of the castle. Everything seemed quiet and peaceful from her high vantage point.

The siege on Hyrule Castle had ended three days ago, but Zelda still hadn't returned to the chambers she had been given when she first came to Hyrule. She always felt uncomfortable with the finery of the rooms – the tapestries woven from gold thread, the four-poster bed with its canopy embroidered in silver, the pair of eiderdown mattresses on a cherrywood frame, the porcelain washbasins that always shone too brightly in the morning light. Her gowns and robes of velvet and damask had their own appointed rooms, as did the various jeweled ornaments that had been offered to the royal family as tribute from the various tribes and provinces of Hyrule. This luxury made her nervous. It existed not to be enjoyed, but to be seen, and it was a reminder that a monarch could never escape the eyes of her people.

Zelda could no longer bear to sleep in her former quarters. She felt as if they belonged to another part of her life, the life she had lived before Hyrule was attacked. She had been a different person then. She never entertained any illusions about the decline of the kingdom, but she still had hope that Hyrule could eventually return to its former glory with careful leadership and management. The ruins scattered across Hyrule Field attested to the severity of the mistakes of her ancestors, but all of that was in the past. When Zant appeared before her throne in the Great Hall, sweeping her guards aside with a mere wave of his sleeve, everything had changed. Zelda learned on that day that the ghosts of the past never stay still – they're not even in the past.

Once the castle was again hers to command, Zelda considered reclaiming the more modest suite of rooms that she had used when she was younger, but she hesitated. During her imprisonment in the west tower, she had come to appreciate the small chamber, where she could enjoy something resembling privacy. As long as she did not move down the tower steps, none of the occupying forces would molest her, and the beasts of the Twilight Realm did not dare to come close. She was not without magic, even in this degraded age, and creatures of the darkness sensed this and feared her. The Bulblin soldiers were kinder to her than she had any right to expect, but they were concerned that punishment would befall them if something were to happen to her. And so she was left alone.

She found that she could ask for food or tea, or for an escort downstairs to change her clothing and to gather one or two more books from the library. It did not take her long to realize that there was a darker force standing behind Zant like a shadow, and that her welfare and comfort were guaranteed according to his orders. Since she had nothing else to do, Zelda committed herself to staying alive while waiting for an opportunity for resistance or escape to present itself. Until that day arrived, she occupied her time as best she could. She came to appreciate the small dimensions of her tower room and its utilitarian furnishings, and a perverse part of her enjoyed watching the Twilight rise and fall through the golden sky outside her window. If she had ever come close to discovering her true face, it had been in the freedom of her captivity.

As the siege wore on, Zelda began to lose her struggle against the Twilight, which stung her skin and burrowed into her mind like a swarm of angry ants. Eventually she could no longer leave her bed. She felt herself fading away, and it was after she had finally given up that Ganondorf came to her, and –

Zelda pushed these thoughts from her mind. It would not do to dwell on that now.

A bright pattern of cyanic light flashed onto the glass panes of the tower's windows, which reflected the mirror hanging on the wall next to the closed door. The sight lifted Zelda's heart. This was perhaps the best reason for her to remain in this small room – no one would eavesdrop on her conversations here.

She turned and walked toward the mirror, which was pulsing faintly with phosphorescent light. This was Midna's signal to get her attention. Zelda didn't want to speak with anyone this evening, but she would always make an exception for the woman who had shared her soul.

She touched the mirror with her fingertips, and then Midna's grinning face was staring back at her from just underneath her reflection.

"Hi girlie." Midna rested her chin in her hands. "How'd the big day go?"

"Mmmmmm..." Zelda returned Midna's smile and shook her head. "It went as you might imagine. It was awful."

"Did the crowd throw, er, what was it? Pumpkins?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn't that what people do in your kingdom when one of their rulers makes a stupid decision? Throw pulpy gourd vegetables to express their displeasure?"

Zelda laughed. "I think you've been spending too much time with Link. Speaking of which, how is he?"

Midna turned her head away from the mirror. "LINK," she called out, "GET OVER HERE."

There was a muffled shout followed by a crash in the distance.

Midna shrugged. "Link's keeping busy, I guess. And hey – speaking of busy, how's your new fiancé? You two getting along? Have you ascertained his viability as the progenitor of royal heirs? You know what they say, don't buy it before you try it."

"For Farore's sake, Midna. You know it's not like that."

"I don't see why not. If I didn't hate the very ground he walks on, I'd love to get a piece of that action. The man is _thick_. Do you think he's, you know, proportional? I mean – "

"Midna, please. I... I'm sorry. I'm really tired."

"I understand." Midna pressed the palm of her hand against the surface of the mirror. "I'll let you go. But know that I'll always be here for you, twin of my heart."

"Thank you. Let's talk tomorrow. There's so much I want to tell you." Zelda touched her palm to Midna's. There was a slight tingle in the pads of her fingers, and the connection was cut. The soft radiance filling the room disappeared, and there was only her own face staring back at her.

She sighed as she began to untwist the ribbons binding her sidelocks. Today had indeed been awful, and she had much to consider before she slept.


	4. The Darkest Reaches of the Night

Ganondorf sat on the throne in the Great Hall of Hyrule Castle. It fit the dimensions of his body perfectly, almost as if it had been made for him. The room was empty, and the last rays of the setting sun streamed through the tall mullioned windows. In a few minutes it would be twilight – not the pallid not-light in which he had wandered lost for so long, but the rich golden warmth that heralded the arrival of the stars.

Zelda was kneeling between his legs.

It took all of his willpower not to flinch away from her. "What are you doing?" he growled.

"You said you wanted Hyrule, didn't you?" She looked up at him, her eyes shining like the sky. "I'm giving you what you want."

Did this woman truly mean to...? Ganondorf clenched the arms of the throne. He would let her do as she wished, and she would learn that she could not wield power over him in this way.

Zelda leaned closer as she unlaced the cords at his waist and pulled him free. She smiled and gently kissed the head of his cock before cupping it in her hand. Ganondorf did not feel the slightest twinge of desire, but he watched Zelda with interest, curious as to how she would proceed when he failed to demonstrate arousal. She merely continued looking at his flaccid member, her face close enough so that he could feel her breath on his skin in the softest of touches. It tickled, and to his dismay he found himself becoming sensitive.

Zelda tilted her chin and trailed the tip of her tongue from the base of his cock to its crown, which she circled with her lips. She flicked the head with her tongue before releasing him back into her hand. Once again she was still, but now the moisture on his skin amplified the sensation of her breath. _I will not submit to her_ , he thought, even as he began to stiffen.

Zelda bent forward again and trailed a series of light kisses along his length before licking him slowly, as if she were savoring every inch. Ganondorf tightened his fists and then relaxed, knowing that he could not stop his physical reaction at this point. He exhaled, intending to order her to cease this foolishness at once, but then she took him into her mouth. The sensation was incredible, and the words he meant to speak dissolved against his teeth. The gentle pressure of her lips and the slick movement of her tongue were transcendent, and all he could do was stare down at her.

As Zelda continued to move her mouth and fingers, Ganondorf realized that his sensitivity had diminished. His pleasure had a dull and abstract quality. What were they doing in the Great Hall, he wondered, and why had no one interrupted them? He became aware that this was a dream before the concrete thought had even formed in his mind, and he woke.

Ganondorf opened his eyes to find himself in his suite of rooms in Hyrule Castle. The bed underneath him was downy and pliable, and he hated it. He resented the exorbitant luxury of the smooth linen, yet it would serve him now as he freed himself from his undergarments and wrapped his painfully throbbing member in a fistful of cotton sheets – like Zelda's gloves – and jerked at his erection until he came. The flood of feeling was so overwhelming that it hurt.

When he finally spent himself into the softness of Hyrule's decadence, Ganondorf lay back, breathing heavily. The remnants of his dream still lingered in the shadowed corners of his mind. He wondered what had come over him. He put his hand on his chest to calm the frenzied beating of his heart, and he could feel the thick scar tissue of his wound through the fine weave his shirt. In the Twilight Realm he had existed as little more than a shade, the contours of his body as murky as the limits of his mind. Time had stretched and swallowed itself, and he had no sense of the days and hours he spent in the purgatory between life and death. His body had grown strange to him.

Hyrule had grown strange as well. Ganondorf did not know how much time had passed since he had been betrayed by the perfidious Hylian king and sentenced to death. He thought a year had passed, perhaps two. When he had finally wrested himself free of the clinging tendrils of the Twilight and emerged into the humid summer air of Hyrule Field, however, he realized that decades had passed, perhaps even centuries. The Hyrule he remembered had been prosperous, with broad paved avenues guiding the flow of travelers to and from the neighboring regions. Along these roads magnificent buildings rose to the heavens, crowding each other for their share of land. That Hyrule was no more.

As the warm breeze caressed his face, newly remade of flesh and bone, the flame of Ganondorf's triumphant victory diminished to ashes. Instead of the proud flagstones of the royal highway, his boots rested on spongy loam. Wild grass grew to his knees, and the only voices he could hear were the chirping of frogs and crickets. The jagged ruins of cyclopean masonry tilted heavenward from the otherwise empty field. He would have thought himself transported to a foreign land, but he could not deny the reality of the silhouette of the towers rising in the distance, where Hyrule Castle was illuminated against the night sky by the eldritch glow of the Twilight surrounding it.

Ganondorf had returned to this world intending to conquer and burn as he avenged the crimes committed against himself and his people. He had not demonstrated even a fraction of his power when he rose up to defy Hyrule, and he was eager to unleash the full expression of his rage. Now that he was here, housed in no less than the former king's chambers, he found that his purpose had deserted him. He did not need to destroy the kingdom – it had destroyed itself. The only thing that remained of its former glory was Hyrule Castle, a beautiful but empty shell.

Ganondorf sighed as his heartbeat slowed. It was not true that Hyrule Castle was empty. The princess kept her court here, doing her best to maintain order as her kingdom crumbled around her. He could have killed her when he found her in her tower room, weak and exhausted by her resistance against the miasma of the Twilight. He could have simply let her die. Against his better judgment he had saved her, pouring the strength and energy of his Triforce into the void left behind by hers. He did not fully understand what had possessed him to join their souls, but he supposed he pitied her for being bound by her fate just as inexorably as he had been trapped by his own.

Regardless, Zelda was alive, and she had repaid her debt to him when the blade of the hero's cursed sword had lain against his throat. The threads of their destinies had thus become tangled, and until he could cut himself free the future of Hyrule was a problem they would have to solve together.


	5. The Burden of Wisdom

"The situation in Kakariko is every bit as bad as the initial reports suggested."

Telma had come to the castle directly from the village, which lay on the border with the Goron territories in the eastern mountains. Mud was caked on the bottoms of her sandaled feet, and the dust of the road lay thickly on her skirt and jacket. She seemed out of place in the small but elegantly furnished stateroom where Zelda had taken her to ensure that their conversation remained private, but she had been a trusted advisor to the princess for years and was as familiar with the castle as any courtier.

Zelda was dressed in her riding habit, and her hair had been disheveled by the wind. As soon as Rusl had sent word that Telma was on her way with news, she had gone out on horseback to meet her. The situation was dire. Mere days after the usurper king's siege had ended, there had been a mysterious attack on Kakariko. Refugees had just begun to return to the village, and Zelda had sent Ashei along with a contingent of soldiers to aid in the relocation efforts. Over the course of one terrible night, most of the camps and new construction had been razed to the ground.

If word of the incident spread, there would be chaos in Castle Town, and Zelda was unsure of her ability to restore and maintain order. The members of the political faction responsible for the deaths of her uncle and father had been exiled, but the breakdown of the monarchy's functions under the Twilight had created a power vacuum. It would be foolish to assume no one was preparing to position someone more appealing to a frightened mob than herself to fill it.

More than what could be, however, Zelda was concerned with the immediate consequences of the disaster. "Have there been any casualties?" she asked Telma.

"Casualties were unavoidable, given the nature of the attack," Telma answered, "but we don't have an exact number at this moment. There are many still missing. It's possible that they ran into the mountains to escape and lost their way or became injured. Renado has the Gorons searching the nearby slopes, but..." She shook her head in resignation.

"Shad has been conducting research in Kakariko. He must have witnessed the attack," Zelda suggested. "Did he recognize anything that he thinks may be significant?"

"He said it was like the Twilight, but not exactly the same..."

Zelda sensed the hesitation in Telma's words. "Anything at all will help," she prompted.

"It was complete pandemonium, and no one can say anything about the nature of what happened, including Shad. Only Renado, who apparently guarded the door of the village's central stronghold, was able to give any sort of description, although I'm not sure how helpful it will be. He said there was something outside like a monstrous boar, as tall as a mountain. It looked like it was made entirely of smoke, and it crashed and roiled over the earth like a wave..."

"A boar, he says?" Ganondorf's voice cut into the heavy silence, startling the two women.

"What are you doing here?" Telma snapped, suddenly on her guard.

"Does the future king not have the right to be made aware of the affairs of his kingdom?" Ganondorf sneered at her.

"You may call yourself the future king," Telma shot back at him, "but there are much better words for people who lurk in the shadows of the castle."

"Spare me your petty accusations." Ganondorf crossed his arms. "You mentioned a 'monstrous boar.' Are you suggesting that the Bulblins had something to do with this?"

"I've seen Bulblins in action, and this has nothing to do with them. Destruction on this scale could only have been caused by magic, and it's got your stink all over it."

Telma glared at Ganondorf. He met her eyes, steel against flint. Zelda worried that there would be sparks if she did not intervene. She coughed slightly.

Ganondorf lowered his arms to his sides, clenched his fists, and relaxed his hands as he exhaled. "I can assure you I was otherwise engaged last night," he finally said. "The news of an attack on Kakariko comes as just as much of a shock to me as it does to the princess. If you have any understanding of magic, explain yourself."

Telma looked as if she were about to say something, but then she sighed. "It would be easier to show you," she said, reaching into one of the leather pouches hanging at her waist. She removed a package wrapped in paper and opened its folds to reveal a mass of what appeared to be blackened, rotting flowers. An unpleasant smell rose into the air.

She was no expert in the mystical arts, but Zelda could sense the strong miasma of magic rising from the ruined vegetation. It was not something she could see with her eyes, but she could perceive it as clearly as dark clouds against as clear sky.

"Telma, please leave us," Zelda said, nodding her head gently to indicate that this was an order.

Telma clicked her tongue, tossed the dead flowers onto a nearby table, and stormed through the door, slamming it shut behind her.

"Well." Zelda looked up at Ganondorf. "Telma is right. There does appear to be dark magic at work here. Did you have anything to do with this? If so, you'd be best served by telling me now."

Ganondorf smirked, not put off by her directness in the least. "Tell me truly, Zelda. Supposing I wanted to destroy this kingdom, do you think I would bother with a hogswill backwater like Kakariko?"

Zelda realized, in a sudden flash of insight, that Ganondorf was enjoying himself. The castle staff was terrified of him – rightfully so, she supposed – and he probably hadn't had anyone speak to him without fear or deference in Nayru only knew how long. Considering her court's opposition to her marriage, she would have to be extremely politic regarding the incident in Kakariko, but she understood that she would have no better ally in dealing with the situation than Ganondorf. She thought, not for the first time, that it would be extremely convenient to have an actual wizard at her side.

"You know," Zelda said, grinning ever so slightly, "there isn't much written about you in the histories of Hyrule, but I'm given to understand that your forces did storm Kakariko, once."

Ganondorf frowned in response. "That was a long time ago, and there is much about that cursed settlement you may not know. If my sisters in arms carried out their mission as befitting their honor as spearwomen, then Kakariko is a much better place for having been burned."

"Why don't we go there and see for ourselves?"

"Go there? And how do you suggest we do that?"

"Don't be coy, Ganondorf. It doesn't suit you. I know you can travel through the Twilight like Midna, with just as little trouble as you intruded on my conversation with Telma."

Ganondorf nodded. "It is as you say, but I have a better suggestion. Our presence will be marked and will surely raise concern in Kakariko. We should talk to the Bulblins instead. They are sensitive to the ebb and flow of magic in this world, and the old village they've claimed is not far away from the site of the incident. If anyone would have a good sense of what happened, it is their king and his advisors, not a scattered group of frightened Hylians."

"Ah." Zelda could feel a blush warming her cheeks. She was ashamed that she hadn't considered this herself. Despite the weeks she had spent in confinement with Bulblin guards and caretakers, she still had trouble thinking of them as one of the tribes of Hyrule.

She looked away to hide her moment of embarrassment. "Very well," she said. "I need concrete information before rumors begin to spread, and time is of the essence. I'm ready to depart whenever you are."

Ganondorf shrugged and flicked his wrist outward, and a hole of glimmering blackness spread in the center of the room like a heavy drop of ink spilled onto a piece of paper. Zelda felt her heart sink at the memory of the loathsome touch of Twilight, but when Ganondorf extended his hand to her she took it. She could feel the warmth of his fingers through her riding gloves. It was a small comfort as she allowed him to lead her through the portal of ravenous dark light.


	6. Under the Open Sky

"The smoke rising from the south is redolent of magic, but it does not smell of the Twilight. The wind carries something more primal, a great power unknown to us."

The Bulblin King spoke slowly as he sharpened the edge of a large saw, the rhythmic strokes punctuating his words. The mica flecks in the whetstone sparkled in the sunlight.

"The Gerudo left their mark on Hyrule long before we came here," the king continued. "You are the last remaining keeper of their lore. Perhaps it is I who should be asking you for an explanation."

The Bulblin language shared a common root with the language of the Moblins, which Ganondorf had learned as a young man. Even when he was little more than a flicker of light and a disembodied voice promising the means to strike into the heart of Hyrule, his ability to communicate had earned him the respect of the Bulblin King and his tribe. Ganondorf was a man who honored his promises, and in his negotiations with the princess he had asked that the Bulblins be allowed to remain in the old Sheikah village hidden in the valley north of Kakariko. Zelda had agreed, albeit with the provision that discussion be resumed after more pressing concerns were addressed.

Ganondorf waited as the king held the edge of the sawblade up to the light to examine it for imperfections. When it met with his approval and was passed to a waiting assistant, he made his reply.

"I have no authority over you, and I no longer have anything to exchange," Ganondorf said quietly. "I come merely as a supplicant seeking answers. If you know anything of this primal force, I ask that you speak freely."

The Bulblin King dusted the fresh powder from the whetstone onto the ground before responding.

"You who walk between worlds, you have been a friend to my people, presenting us with the means to enter this green land. Long did we live at the borders and in the margins, and I will tell you an unpleasant truth," he said, crossing his arms as he looked down onto the village. "I am certain that it is not a revelation to you to hear that this kingdom is built on a foundation of conflict. The tribes of Hyrule are bound together by nothing more than their common enemies, so there must always be an outsider. If a creature more monstrous than we Bulblins has appeared, then that is a blessing to us. So may it become for you as well."

"And yet it would be folly to say that the loss of life in the Hylian village does not trouble me," the Bulblin King continued, nodding toward the hills beyond the edge of the small grouping of houses. "These forested mountains are hospitable to our kind, and we have no desire to leave. People can be reasoned with, but I fear the same cannot be said for the thing that has risen to haunt this land."

"Is it not difficult to adapt to this environment, after having lived so long in the desert?" Ganondorf asked, deflecting further discussion. He had no wish to hear more of Hyrule's ghosts.

"The desert is filled with dark places and deep magic," the king replied, "but it is easier to build here. In time we will adjust. Our young and our animals seem to be at home already."

Ganondorf allowed his gaze to wander down the dusty street below. He watched Zelda, who sat on the edge of a half-collapsed wooden porch, feeding grain to a Bullbo that ate directly from her hand as she talked to Impaz. While he had been speaking with the Bulblin King, a small crowd of cats had gathered around the two women.

The Bulblin King turned away to issue instructions to one of his attendants. Ganondorf excused himself and stepped down from the raised earthen platform onto the main street running through the town. Its buildings were decrepit, but the Bulblins had already begun the process of repairing them. Why they did not simply pull down the wooden frames and construct edifices more suited to their needs was beyond him, especially given the wealth of timber in the mountains. He supposed they had done the same thing in the desert, building on top of the stone foundations once laid by his own people. He was struck by a pang of homesickness, but he pushed the feeling away. Now was not the time for self-indulgent pity.

As Ganondorf approached the porch where Zelda was sitting, Impaz scowled, stood up, and ambled off in the opposite direction. Zelda nodded in acknowledgement of his presence but remained seated. The Bullbo grunted and flicked its ears, and he dutifully patted its thick neck, wondering how the Bulblins could have managed to domesticate these creatures, which used to roam freely through the desert. The cats at his feet ignored him, and he ignored them in turn.

"Did you learn anything?" Zelda asked.

"Nothing I did not already suspect," he answered. He waited for Zelda to tell him if Impaz had anything to say on the matter of Kakariko, but she simply scratched the Bullbo's snout.

"I don't imagine the old woman had anything useful to say," he prompted.

"She did not," Zelda replied. "She's happy to see this village come alive again, that's all. She knows nothing."

It was as Ganondorf had thought. If the woman had inherited the traditions of her tribe, he would almost certainly have encountered her before now, no matter how old she may have been. "The Sheikah were dying out even in my time," he observed.

Zelda gave him a sharp look. "How is it you know about the Sheikah?"

Ganondorf was taken aback by her question. _I am not the only monster in Hyrule_ , he wanted to say, but he held his tongue. Time had passed, and history had been lost. Nothing had changed since his own era, apparently. He shook his head.

Zelda narrowed her eyes and frowned, not understanding his gesture.

"I have faced Sheikah on the battlefield," he explained. "They were worthy opponents, peerless among the warriors of your kingdom. In fact," he added, "it is said that women of the royal family once disguised themselves as Sheikah apprentices."

"I wouldn't know about that," Zelda said, smiling as she looked up at him for the first time during their conversation, "but it sounds like fun." Her eyes reflected the bright azure of the sky stretching above them.

Ganondorf stroked the prickly fur covering the Bullbo's neck. He knew their business here was done, but he did not wish to return quite yet. Hyrule Castle was a maze of shadows, and it was good to stand under the open sky. Zelda seemed in no hurry to leave herself, and so they continued to pet the giant boar, neither of them saying a word as they enjoyed the gentle warmth of the morning sunlight.


	7. The Ghosts of the Past

Zelda sighed as she looked out over the lights of Hyrule Castle from the window of her tower room. The day had been a nightmare, with interminable meetings and a steady stream of documents requiring her attention. The procession of tasks necessary to rebuild her kingdom after the siege seemed endless, and now she had the situation in Kakariko to deal with as well.

After their brief visit to the old Sheikah village, Ganondorf had gone off somewhere, and she hadn't seen him since. He had not objected to the prospect of becoming the next king, but she wondered if he were really cut out for the job. No matter what he may have been in his own time, running a country was vastly different than leading an army; a monarch cannot simply disappear and tend to his own business in the middle of the day.

It was embarrassing for Zelda to admit to herself that she had expected anything of Ganondorf. She originally intended for him to act as little more than a figurehead, and it suited her purposes for him to be here in the castle. If he returned to the desert, as she strongly suspected he wished to do, she would no longer be able to keep an eye on him.

Zelda turned away from the window and glanced at the pile of books on the small table that had served as a desk during her imprisonment. She had read about the Gerudo, a tribe that once built a thriving civilization strong enough to rival Hyrule. By all accounts they had enjoyed the prosperity that accompanied their assiduous management of the trade routes passing between the kingdoms that lay beyond the border of the western mountains. These kingdoms no longer sent emissaries, and Zelda did not know whether they had fallen into decline. Had Ganondorf attacked Hyrule because the Gerudo were suffering economically due to dwindling trade? Or had the Gerudo grown so wealthy and powerful that he assumed he would be able to conquer Hyrule without resistance?

The histories she consulted had not provided her with the answers she sought. Perhaps the only person who could tell her what happened was Ganondorf. How incredible it was that she found herself in the company of a living artifact from Hyrule's past. Everything from his accent to his gestures to the manner in which he ate was foreign to her, and she could never tell whether his strangeness was the product of his Gerudo heritage or of his temporal displacement.

Regardless, Ganondorf did not seem like the sort of person who would carelessly bring about the demise of his kingdom. Zelda was not blind to the hideous and terrible anger he carried within him, but even at his most furious he had maintained an iron-fisted control over himself. She had been enthralled during his battle against Link. She knew Link would win – he was fated to win – but she'd spent years studying the art of the sword, and she watched Ganondorf with keen interest. He was clearly uncomfortable with the heft and balance of the sword he wielded, but every move he made was calculated and deliberate.

It was clear to her that Ganondorf was not a madman, and the danger he posed lay not in the strength of his body or of his magic, but rather the strength of his will. Zelda realized he could be valuable to her, and that she may be able to use him. She decided to spare his life, and her resolve endowed her with the strength to pierce the magical barrier that separated her from him. To Link's amazement, she stayed the blade of the mythical Master Sword with her own hand.

If she were being honest with herself, however, she would have to admit that her decision to save Ganondorf had already been made in the moment when he pressed his mouth to hers, sharing her breath as he passed the essence of his Triforce into her dying body. She had been filled with the exhilaration of the energy flowing into her, and she understood for the first time what power meant. It was not just the burden of responsibility, but the freedom of an infinite potential.

Zelda turned away from the window and walked to the mirror. She blew onto it and wrote a quick succession of glyphs on its clouded surface. The glass pulsed with light twice, and then Midna's face jumped into sharp focus.

Zelda laughed in surprise. "That was quick."

Midna grinned back at her as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "I've been waiting. What kept you? Were you with your loverboy?" Midna's lips curled in distaste. "Because I certainly hope not."

"It's been a long day," Zelda replied. "Listen, speaking of Ganondorf, I have a question. What is magic, exactly? Is it something you were born with, as a Twili? Or is it something you inherited as a princess?"

"Wow." Midna raised her eyebrows. "Way to get metaphysical right off the bat."

Zelda shook her head. "I don't care about the theory, just the basic practicalities."

"Of course not, no one cares about the theory. As for the practicalities, we Twili have varying levels of ability. I was lucky enough to be born with a little magic, but I wouldn't have gotten anywhere if I hadn't studied my ass off for years. Isn't that what you did?"

"I... no. I didn't study magic." Zelda was embarrassed. "What magic I have came to me with the Triforce, and I really don't understand anything about it. We don't have books about magic here in Hyrule. But, since you were able to study it, do you think it was the same with the Gerudo?"

"Hmmmm..." Midna tapped her finger against her chin as she considered the question. "I don't know much about the Gerudo. Back in the day, you Hylians had a great deal of magic yourselves, so I wouldn't be surprised if the Gerudo had their own traditions. As someone who hated studying, I can tell you that your fiancé strikes me as someone who probably loved it. He's such a damn nerd."

Zelda covered her mouth with her hand to hide her grin. She had never thought of Ganondorf like that before, but Midna's description of him was apt.

Midna rolled her eyes and continued. "You know what I'm talking about, then. That boy spent too much time reading, and then he became a loner with unrealistic ambitions and a delusional savior complex. He's such a stereotype. Honestly, I don't know how you stand him. Still... I can't deny that he's good at what he does, and there's probably a reason the Triforce chose him. There's no accounting for taste, I guess."

Zelda was amused, but she pressed on with her line of questioning. "You said that you don't know much about the Gerudo. Can you tell me anything?"

Midna shrugged. "Not really, only that they were one of the tribes of Hyrule. Like I said, I'm not a huge fan of digging through old books."

"Do you know if they were associated with boars?"

Midna scowled. "I don't know whether they were or not, but I can tell you who is – the man you stupidly decided to marry. You were really out of it when Link and I fought him in your castle, probably because he had just possessed your body, which, you know, is obviously a healthy start to a relationship. Can we talk about that, by the way?"

"Midna, please."

"Okay, whatever. Anyway, your hubby-to-be transformed himself into a giant boar, except it was more of a demon, just raw strength and pure rage. Or, it wasn't really a boar; it had thick fleshy toes instead of hooves, and I can't swear that it wasn't scaly. It creeped me out, and let me tell you, I've seen some things..."

Midna paused for a moment and massaged her temples before continuing. "In any case, that's what you can thank for the destruction of your throne room. You're not going to want to hear this, but I think he was trying to take on the form of the legendary demon king Ganon. I mean, that's how he persuaded that idiot Zant, by saying he was Ganon. It would make sense, given that he calls himself 'Ganondorf.' The thing is, though – I'm pretty sure Ganon isn't just a legend. I think it's real, and I think it has something to do with why we Twili were banished from Hyrule in the first place. I can tell you the story, but why don't you tell me why you're asking about boars in the first place?"

"I'm sorry, Midna," Zelda responded. Her suspicions had been confirmed, and her heart was racing. "I think I have to go. Can we talk about this later?"

"Oh..." Midna's face fell. "I bet you just remembered an important conversation you're supposed to be having with someone else. Fine. But be careful with him, okay? I wouldn't trust him any farther than I can throw a, you know, a..."

"A pumpkin?" Zelda suggested.

"That's right!" Midna snapped her fingers.

Zelda smiled, grateful for Midna's concern. "I don't believe Ganondorf is a threat. At least, not in the way everyone thinks he is. Still, I suspect he knows something that he's not telling me."

"Have you tried using your feminine wiles? I bet he's a real beast in bed, if you know what I'm saying."

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "You're one to talk. By the way, how's Link?"

"Listen, Zelda," Midna said, suddenly serious. "We'll be here for you, me and Link. We're right on the other side of this mirror. If you need us, just reach out, okay? We'll come for you."

Midna raised her hand to the glass. "Thank you," Zelda whispered, touching her fingers to Midna's palm.

The connection flickered and died out, and Zelda allowed her shoulders to drop. She rolled her head and rubbed the back of her neck. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and she felt her exhaustion fading. She was looking forward to talking with Ganondorf, and she knew exactly where to find him.

 _I bet he's a real beast in bed_. Midna's words lingered in Zelda's mind, and her face grew warm as she blushed. What she didn't want to tell her friend was how incredible it felt when Ganondorf's spirit had entered her. He offered her his life, and she had taken it, knowing full well what sort of power it would give him over her. When he came to her in her tower room, he was not the prince she had always dreamed of, but he was the only person who had ever seen her in a moment of true weakness and not turned away in disappointment. However terrible he may have been, she was not afraid of him.


	8. Time Scatters Like Sand

Ganondorf sat back in his chair and stared at the soft flame of the lantern he'd lit shortly after sundown. It was dangerous to bring fire into a library, but there seemed to be no other means of illuminating the room. There were gaslights in a few of the castle's larger halls, but electrical technology had apparently been lost, and there were no glowstone lamps to be found. He was here to ascertain how far into the future he had come, but it felt as if he had traveled backwards through time.

After an entire day of research, he had gotten no closer to figuring out how many years had passed since he had been banished to the Twilight Realm. At some point the standard dating system had apparently fallen out of fashion, and spans of time were now measured by the reigns of various monarchs. These kings replaced each other with disturbing frequency, and Ganondorf was not certain that there were no periods during which the throne had been empty. As far as he could tell, there were no women whose rule had been recorded, and he found no mention of a Zelda in this era or any other.

If there had been almanacs or star charts, he would have been able to do the calculations himself, but he had been unable to locate anything of that nature. How could a country be run with no knowledge of the seasons? Were the farmers – and the merchants dependent on their labor – simply left to their own devices? How was taxation managed? Each of Ganondorf's questions gave rise to numerous others, but there was no discernible system of organization or cataloging in the library, and his search for answers yielded no satisfying results. Even more troubling were the gaps in the collection. There were biographies, certainly, and multiple bound reports and collections of letters, but there were few actual histories, and those he found seemed to have been written for the edification of children. No one other than himself had entered the room during the day, and dust lay thickly on the shelves. It was as if the library existed only as a display of wealth, with any actual knowledge carefully culled. He wouldn't put it past the Hylians to have burned books they found unpleasant.

Ganondorf exhaled as he stretched. His back was sore, and the wound on his chest ached. His eyes had begun to hurt hours ago. Whatever benefits the Triforce of Power may have conferred on him, he wasn't getting any younger, and he worried that he might need glasses before too long. The Gerudo were known for their clear vision, but he had never been like the women of his tribe.

He closed his eyes and cast his mind back to the exhausting training required of all young Gerudo. How he envied the stamina and flexibility of the girls who surrounded him. Because he was a prince, no one quite knew how to deal with him, and as he grew older his teachers began to express greater tolerance regarding his absences from the evening exercises, perhaps thinking that he lacked the feminine strength necessary to become a warrior. He found this assumption infuriating, knowing in his heart that he would not remain a weak boy forever.

In the meantime he would retreat into one of the many libraries of the palace to practice magic without interference and read of the exotic foreign lands that lay beyond the sea of sand stretching out from the walls of his city. He was especially fascinated by Hyrule, where gods walked the earth in the form of heroes and demons. Even though his kingdom shared a border with Hyrule, it seemed like something from a fantasy. It was a land of prosperity and wonder, and none of the princes or princesses in the books he read had to deal with tariff percentages or property disputes or irrigation rights or any of the other asinine details of the business discussed in the council meetings he was obligated to attend.

It seemed that every eight hundred years or so Hyrule would be visited by a great calamity, which had come to be known as "Ganon." His own name, Ganondorf, simply meant "boar son" in an archaic variant of the Gerudo language, but he still liked to imagine that there was some connection between himself and the old Hylian legends. In these quiet moments, free from the incessant chatter of his cousins and the petty debates of his elders, Ganondorf would picture himself as a great warrior who used his swords and magic to battle an unimaginably terrible enemy.

As the years passed he understood how foolish it had been for him to think of Hyrule as nothing more than an innocent fantasy; the kingdom was a dark place where the blessing of water was wasted on the blood-drenched soil. On the other side of the desert the races mixed freely, but in Hyrule they had learned to keep to themselves in their own isolated territories. His people, although closer to the Hylians than others, were treated no differently and shunned in the towns and cities across the border. Regardless, Ganondorf could feel Hyrule calling to him, and when he was finally allowed to travel there to present himself to the king he fell in love with the green fields and gentle winds of a land where the seasons turned in an endless cycle.

Hyrule did not love him in return. Unskilled in politics as he was as a young man, he still understood that the Hylian king intended to create a suzerainty in the desert, apparently misunderstanding the peace maintained by the Gerudo as a weakness. These tensions were exacerbated by his coronation, and he witnessed the corruption of Hyrule's royal family firsthand when he was apprehended for treason on a diplomatic visit and cast into the prison underneath the castle, a hellish dungeon where not even the dead were allowed to rest. No stone walls could hold him, and he escaped without difficulty, but it was then that he understood that it was the royal line itself that was "Ganon."

At least, that was his view of Hyrule before the war, and before he had been captured and flung into another world. What he learned as he wandered through the Twilight was that demons were real, mercilessly so. The desert was haunted by ghosts, but what he had seen in the wastes had not prepared him for the horrors that stalked the Twilight, which turned men into monsters.

Ganondorf rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. How surprised he had been to find Zelda still in this castle, encased though it was in deep Twilight. Her body seemed so delicate, and yet she had been able to resist corruption. When he first saw her lying on a simple bed in the highest room of a lonely tower, as still and pale as a cut lily, he had assumed the Triforce of Wisdom was sustaining her. He quickly realized that she must have passed it to the imp queen to keep it from him, and that it was her own spirit that resisted the pull of the hateful miasma. He had long held a prejudice against the weakness of Hylians, but the strength of Zelda's will moved him to compassion – and perhaps something more. He was not a man prone to rash decisions, but he knew that he could not bear to lose her. If she remained in this castle, a hero would surely come for her, but she was fading fast, and he saw no other way to keep her alive than by sustaining her with his own power.

"You really shouldn't have an open flame in a library, you know."

Startled, Ganondorf jerked his head up as Zelda's voice rang out into the dusty silence.

"How did you get here?" he snarled at her, embarrassed that she had been able to enter the room without attracting his attention.

"I used the door," she answered as she walked toward him. "I don't need magic to move quietly."

"And speaking of magic," she continued, "I'm surprised that someone like you needs to rely on an oil lantern." She placed her hands together, and when she opened them a globe of light rose into the air. She made a show of surveying the piles of books he had left lying on the floor and table. "This is some mess you've made."

Ganondorf frowned. She was being facetious, and it put him on edge. This woman had many faces, and he could not yet tell which one she was presenting to him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he watched her approach.

"I want to talk about what happened in Kakariko, and I came to find you. Don't tell me you've been in the library all day. What have you been looking for?"

"Nothing I can find in this mess." He swept his hand out toward the shelves. "You'd think the people in your kingdom read nothing but romances."

Zelda shrugged. "So what if we do? There are truths in such stories that are hidden from official accounts of battles and treaties and the great deeds of kings. Are you searching for something specific, or are you just upset because you haven't been able to find any mention of your own name?"

Ganondorf sat back in his chair and crossed his arms as he regarded Zelda, who stood on the other side of the table, a slight grin on her face. She was baiting him to give up information, challenging him to a game. Fine, then. He would make his move.

"I wasn't looking for my name," he told her. "I was looking for yours."

To his surprise, she laughed, but the bitterness in her voice was clear. "You won't find it," she said. "No matter how many years I sit on the throne, I will never be a king of Hyrule. I am simply a placeholder for a proper monarch, one who has all the suitable..." She made an obscene gesture and smirked. "Attributes."

"How old are you?" he couldn't help asking.

"Approximately two hundred years younger than you," she answered flatly.

He scowled in distaste at her rudeness before remembering that Hylian women did not like to be pressed on such things. He had been told that their men found the ripeness of experience unattractive, and that it was insulting for a woman to be reminded of her age. He forced his face to relax. "My apologies," he said. "The youthfulness of your face belies the depth of your wisdom."

Zelda snorted. "Those are pretty words," she said, "but I'm not that young. I must remain a 'princess,' so many people assume I'm still a child. Being underestimated has its advantages, but I would prefer if you didn't condescend to me."

"I assure you I had no intention of being condescending."

"Good. Now why don't you tell me what you've been doing here all day." It was not a question.

Ganondorf could easily fend her off with half-truths, but he saw no reason to lie. "You've just given me the information I wanted, which is that it's been two hundred years since I was last in Hyrule." He paused and waited for her affirmation.

Zelda shrugged. "Give or take. I'm sure you noticed that there are a number of books in the room where I was imprisoned during the occupation of the castle. I did a bit of research on my own, and no two authors can agree on the dates. Two hundred years is my best estimate, but I could be wrong."

"How far Hyrule has fallen," Ganondorf said without malice. He looked out into the darkness beyond the library windows. The castle had once been hailed as a shining monument of light, and it was still strange to see nothing but murky shadows in its gardens and hallways after the sun set.

"You don't need to rub it in," Zelda sighed. "Listen..." She trailed off, ran her palm across the surface of the table, and then clapped the dust from her hands as she continued. "I know you're trying to learn more about Ganon. That's what you think happened in Kakariko, right?"

Ganondorf wondered what she knew. What was she hiding, and how much would she reveal? "Ganon is just a legend," he said sharply.

"That's not precisely true, but I don't want to talk about it here," Zelda responded as she walked around to his side of the table.

"What do you suggest we do, then?" He watched as she adjusted the dial on the lantern that lowered its wick and extinguished its flame. Her own ball of illumination remained in the air behind her, but its light had grown dim.

"Come to the tower with me. No one will overhear us there."

"Do you trust me enough to allow me into your private room in the dead of night? Have you not considered the possibility that I am Ganon?" Ganondorf asked as he met her eyes.

"I've given the matter quite a bit of thought, but..." Zelda smiled and looked away. "You are my fiancé, after all."


	9. Light and Shadow

"You are my fiancé, after all." Zelda blushed as she said this, but she forced herself to look at Ganondorf.

He was without his armor, and he had removed the sharp crown that framed his face within a halo of blades. He wore a loose robe over a long shirt with a high collar, and he had pulled his hair back into a loose and tangled bun. No longer a demon of legend or a warlord from a forgotten past, he appeared to her as the man he must once have been.

Although Ganondorf seemed angry to be interrupted when she walked in on him in the library, Zelda suspected that he wouldn't have stationed himself here if he didn't want to be found. He had the run of the castle, and it wasn't as if she were forcing him to stay in Hyrule. He was free to leave her just as Link had, yet he remained behind.

Zelda's intuition had told her that she would find Ganondorf here, but she still experienced a moment of surprise when she laid eyes on him surrounded by small hills of discarded books. Her hunch had been correct – he was researching Hyrule's history and trying, in his own way, to find a means of exorcising what haunted this cursed kingdom.

"But I'd prefer for us not to be observed," Zelda continued. "Can you take us to the tower?"

As the darkness grew thicker around them, Ganondorf stood. "I suppose I can do that," he answered, holding her gaze.

The shadows were heavy on his face, and his expression was unreadable. The light she had cast was fading. She used all the energy she could muster to create it, but she knew it wouldn't last long. She had not been born with magic, and it was still largely a mystery to her. Zelda wondered if the princesses who came before her had been overwhelmed to find themselves at the center of the movements of such powerful forces.

Ganondorf rolled his shoulders, and the lines of the embroidery on his robe began to glow with a rich golden red. Zelda stepped forward, stopping mere inches away from him. After regarding her for a few seconds, his eyes shining with reflected light, he enfolded her in the wings of his sleeves. The fabric smelled of incense, and she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. When he carried her through the Twilight, she barely registered the bitter chill of the transition.

In the blink of an eye they were in her room, but Ganondorf did not immediately release her. He seemed to be waiting for her to direct the situation. Now that she was finally alone with him, she found that she was unsure of how to proceed. Even after she became the ruler of Hyrule in all but name, Zelda had been forced to lead by suggestion instead of by command. Ganondorf expected her to communicate without circumlocution, however, and he responded to her ungilded expression of her will without challenging her authority. At first it had been difficult to speak with him, but she was growing used to stating her mind without veiling her intentions.

"I'd like to see the scar left by the Sword of Sages," she said. "Is that all right?"

Ganondorf lowered his arms without responding. Zelda feared she had offended him by being too forward, but she did not step away.

"It's fine," he finally answered. Zelda was momentarily confused by the tone of his voice before realizing that he must feel as uncertain as she did. The memory of his defeat on the point of the sword of her chosen knight must still be fresh in his mind, just as it was in hers. Fate demanded that they be enemies, and he had no way of knowing for certain that she did not wish to harm him. Regardless, she pressed on.

"Can I open your shirt?"

Again there was a gravid silence. Zelda searched Ganondorf's face for an indication of what he was thinking, but his expression remained as neutral as if she were not standing close enough to hear his every breath. This encounter was not turning out as she planned. She had worked with Ganondorf closely over the past several days, and he was never without a means to break an impasse. Unlike her, he wielded power over others as if it were second nature to him. It was strange that he should now stand so still and silent, and Zelda realized that she would have to take action.

She reached down to his side and clasped his hand before pressing it to her chest directly above her heart. As she counted her heartbeats to calm herself, she watched Ganondorf's face slowly soften. Eventually he took her hand and placed it on his collar, sliding her fingers under the band of fabric that covered the smooth metal clasps holding it together. His fingers lingered on hers, his touch warm and dry, as Zelda began unlinking the closures.

Ganondorf's shirt fell open, and Zelda saw that his torso was covered in scars that drew pale lines across his skin. He didn't seem to be that much older than she was, but he had seen things she never would. She couldn't begin to imagine what he had lived through. The wound from the Sword of Sages was larger than she expected, almost as if it had been blasted by an explosive. It had not healed well. The mass of scar tissue was ropy and discolored. Zelda touched the tips of her fingers to its outer edge, and Ganondorf sucked in his breath sharply.

Suddenly the Triforce crest on the back of her hand flared with light. The wound began glowing in response, sending bright tendrils of pulsing illumination outward. Zelda leaned forward and touched one of the shining pathways spreading from its center. Her fingertips tingled with the strength of the magic. She traced the radius of the light, but it was as hard and cold as steel and felt nothing like skin. Although she had never witnessed anything like this, she instinctively knew that she was looking at sealing magic of the highest order.

"That's enough," Ganondorf said, his voice oddly choked. Zelda had gotten lost in her analysis, and Ganondorf's words forced her to return to herself, bringing her back to the reality of breath and skin and touch. She envisioned herself in her mind's eye, standing in front of a man while caressing his bare chest. As she backed away, she couldn't help glancing down, and she glimpsed the ridge of a hard line through the loose fabric of Ganondorf's trousers. He saw that she had seen, and he turned his face away from her as he stepped back.

"I should go," he said, lifting his hands to refasten his collar.

"Don't!" Zelda raised her voice to stop him as she caught one of his arms. "I mean... please. Please stay."

"Zelda..." Ganondorf turned back to her and took both of her hands in his. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to sacrifice yourself for what you think I want."

"But what about what I want?" she protested. "No one ever asks. If the Triforce of Power isn't returned to Hyrule, the land will crumble, and so I asked you to remain here. But that isn't about what I want. If I don't find a spouse to legitimize my rule, then this kingdom will fall, and so I proposed marriage. But that isn't about what I want either. I'm just doing what I'm expected to do. I wasn't supposed to do it like this, and you were never supposed to be here. But this is about me, and this is about what I want..."

Zelda's words trailed off, and then there was only the beating of her heart and the soft glow of the Triforce crest on her hand and the terrible wound on Ganondorf's chest. Before she was aware of what she was doing, Zelda reached for Ganondorf just as he bent down to her. When their lips met, it was as perfectly choreographed as if it had been planned centuries before they were ever born.

Zelda savored the touch of his lips on hers before drawing away slightly. Ganondorf pulled her closer and kissed her again. She ran her tongue across the seam of his lips, and he opened himself to her, stroking her hair as the kiss deepened. His hands were gentle, but his tongue was not. Zelda felt her inhibitions melting under the heat of his ardor, and she pressed her body against the hardness of his shaft.

Ganondorf made a small noise and then pushed her away, holding her at an arm's length.

"It's been a very long time for me," he said, his voice low. "I may have gotten carried away. Is this really what you want?"

 _Why does he keep asking me that?_ Zelda thought in frustration. _Is it really so strange that I would want this? Is there some sort of problem with me?_

"Am I not good enough for you?" she asked. "Is it just this kingdom you want?"

"Zelda – " Ganondorf interjected, a pained look crossing his face.

She shook her head and continued. "Hyrule is decaying, slowly but surely. Link left as soon as you came, and without his Triforce, it's only a matter of time before the kingdom falls. We're so isolated, and all we have left are chasms and ruins. No matter how hard I try, there's nothing I can do to fix this. I can keep things together a little longer, but it doesn't matter, not in the end. This is a dying land. If you want Hyrule so badly, you can take it."

Zelda felt tears gathering in her eyes as the thoughts she had concealed for years poured out of her. It had been a mistake to do this. Embarrassed, she tried to turn away, but Ganondorf held her to him. He cupped her chin in his Triforce-branded hand and tilted her face up to his.

"This isn't about Hyrule," he said, and kissed her.

At the touch of his lips, Zelda's anxiety fell away. The glow of the wound on Ganondorf's chest grew dim, as did the Triforce crests on their hands, and soon there was nothing in the room with them except the moonlight coming through the tower window. The spark of Zelda's desire grew, becoming hotter as it was fanned by the pressure of Ganondorf's hands. She slid her palm under the collar of his shirt, separating the thin fabric from his skin. He shrugged it off along with his robe, and when he reached for her again he lifted her from her feet.

As he carried her to the bed Zelda marveled at how easy it had been for him to pick her up. Ganondorf was tall and imposing, but it had never been his physical presence that she feared. It was his words that he used to shape the world around him, and she had never given much thought to the body that might lie under the layers of metal and cloth he draped over himself. For the first time she realized how strong he must be, yet she felt secure in his arms. If he intended to hurt her, that time had now passed, and he presented the vulnerability of his bare skin to her like an offering.

He set her down on the edge of the bed before kneeling to unlace her boots as she pulled off her jacket and shirt. She hadn't been given an opportunity to change out of her riding outfit, and the cool air felt wonderful. Ganondorf kissed her again. The goddesses help her, she loved the way he felt and tasted.

Zelda grabbed his shoulders and allowed herself to collapse backwards, pulling Ganondorf down with her. He positioned himself at her side, and she shivered with delight when he took one of her breasts in his hand and began circling its peak with his thumb. She could feel every callous on his fingers, but his touch was warm and kind.

Before she had become a princess, Zelda fooled around with a few young men in the service of her family's household, but she had never experienced a steady surge of sensation like this. Ganondorf's fingers on her skin lit a fire deep within her, and she burned for him. Her entire being was attuned to him, and only the touch of his hands could calm the ache of her desire. She leaned into him, pressing the hard line of his cock into her thigh as she took his hand and guided it lower.

He traced his fingers along the valley between her legs, creating a delicious friction. She couldn't help moaning when he pressed his fingertips onto her apex.

"Do you like this?" he whispered into her ear.

"You know I do," Zelda answered as she undid the rows of buttons at the waist of her riding pants. Ganondorf pushed them down eagerly, and she kicked them away while he toed himself out of his boots, which fell to the floor alongside her own.

He laid her down and cupped her mound in his hand, running his middle finger down her slit. He kissed her chin and neck as he continued to stroke her, caressing her folds while drawing wide loops around her throbbing clit. He moved slowly, his skilled fingers teasing her, and she felt herself losing control.

 _I wonder if he's proportional?_ Midna's voice echoed in her mind. Zelda smiled and slipped her hands into Ganondorf's trousers. His cock rose to meet her, and she slid her palm along its thick length.

Ganondorf gasped, and his muscles tensed. He drew himself up over her and forced his tongue into her mouth as he slid two fingers deep into her slick opening. The wave of pleasure that crashed over her was intense, and Zelda arched her back to meet his touch. Ganondorf thrust his cock into her hand as he fucked her with his fingers, his breaths coming rough in her ear.

When Zelda first understood who Ganondorf was, she knew she was fated to confront him. The bond of their destiny was deep, but this was not how the legends of past princesses unfolded. She shouldn't have wanted this man, and yet this felt so right. She moved her hand to his wrist, signaling him to be still. He gazed down at her, desire shining in his eyes. She kissed him lightly and then sighed into his waiting mouth, "I want you."


	10. The Marriage of Lanayru

Hundreds of years of fighting, and thousands of voices silenced. Proud kingdoms and mighty peoples vanished without a trace. Sandstone worn away by sharp desert winds, and marble pillars crumbling under the creeping feet of moss. This was the legacy he left behind – a sluggish and pervasive entropy. Was the blame for this slow demise his to shoulder, or was he a cog in an unfathomable machine grinding everything that fell under its lethargic treads into dust?

The vengeance Ganondorf sought had already been enacted by the cruel passage of time. Hyrule was trapped in a spiral of destruction, and he could not extricate himself. With the Triforce of Power at his command, the world could have been his, yet still he stayed. Was it responsibility that anchored him to this terrible place, or was it resignation? Was it simply that this was all that remained to him? Or was the magnetic pull that made it impossible for him to leave something deeper, something more primal?

What if, in ten thousand years, everything in this land fell to the elements? Would there still be a princess? Would a hero still defend her? Would there still be a monster, forever denied the mercy of death as it stalked the foundation of a ruined castle?

All of these doubts fell away when Zelda touched him. Despite his reservations, he allowed her to bring him to this tower, and when she asked to see the most vulnerable part of himself he had willingly exposed it to her eyes. She caressed the wound that would not heal, and the lightness of her breath on his tainted skin woke something within him that he had almost forgotten he possessed. May Din forgive him, he wanted to take her as she stood before him, her eyes as blue as the still water of an oasis under a clear sky. She cried out to him in desperation, lamenting that the history of her kingdom would never change. This truth was so deeply engraved onto his own skin that he could not help himself. He kissed her, and then he couldn't stop.

"I want you," she breathed into his mouth, her words sweet on his tongue.

Her body was strong and lithe, yet her skin was softer than a sigh. The way the ripe buds on her breasts stiffened under his hands made him want to take them in his mouth and worship her glory with his tongue, but her lips held him captive. If he kissed her for every hour of the remainder of his life, it would still not be enough, so great was his desire. When she guided his hand across her smooth belly and into the valley between her legs, he marveled that he could touch something so lovely and inviting. His cock throbbed within the constriction of his pants, swollen with the need to feel her. As she grasped him within her palm, he almost lost control, and he came dangerously close to climax as he moved himself against her. She was hot and slick on his fingers, and he knew she was ready for him.

When he first came upon Zelda, lying so still and pale on this very bed, he had not foreseen this as a consequence of his decision to allow his Triforce to pass into her. He was granted a limited yet piercing access into her mind, and he had been so enraged by the hero's self-righteous ignorance that he abused this connection, possessing this woman's body and seizing her magic. He had been shocked at how easily the holy golden light had come to her hands, even though it was his will that animated her movements and summoned her power. Was it his own body that was somehow impure? Had he been defiled at the moment of his birth, his golden eyes and rounded ears denying him the right to the sacred forces so easily commanded by Hyrule's princess?

These thoughts flowed like a muddy subterranean current under the bedrock of Ganondorf's mind as he positioned himself above Zelda, but it was too late to worry over the meaningless concerns of purity and pollution. If the legends were true, she was the reincarnation of a goddess, but in this moment the women underneath him was greater than any divine being in this world, and he wanted her with a longing so fierce that he would have died if that would please her.

Zelda gently pulled him closer, and then he was inside her. She was so warm, and so wet, and so tight around him. He could feel himself growing even harder, every inch of his cock so sensitive that he could barely stand it. The sensation of her slender fingers caressing the thick muscles of his back augmented the bright flare of his lust. If he moved as he wished, it would be over.

Ganondorf lowered his head to kiss the side of Zelda's neck just under her ear. Her skin smelled like the white flowers that once bloomed in the castle gardens on summer nights, filling the humid air with their delicate fragrance. She was everything he ever wanted, all of his fantasies made real. She was wisdom and grace, but she was also beautifully herself, and she was guiding him deeper into her with every impatient touch of her hands.

He began to move, and soon she joined him in a perfectly balanced rhythm. Every thrust was a chorus of pleasure, every breath a magnificent crescendo of wanting. He could feel her beginning to achieve her climax, and so he took her as close as he could, leading her right to the edge of her desire. His body was at its limits, its every particle tightly wound and vibrating with the anticipation of release. All it would take was one final push – and then Zelda came, crying out his name as her inner walls clutched his cock. The feeling was unbearable, and he lost himself to his joy as his seed spilled into her.

He returned to himself to find that she was kissing his beard over and over, her lips like the featherlight brush of wings. He covered her mouth with his own, tasting her while he was still inside her, the last tremors of their pleasure shooting through his nerves and lingering on his skin. For the first time he felt comfortable in his body. Perhaps he had finally returned from the realm of eternal Twilight. He had set out to destroy this woman, but she had saved him.

"How was it?" he asked her, breaking the kiss. "Is this how the legend of Hyrule's princess is supposed to play out?"

She laughed as she gazed up at him with her brilliant eyes. "Now that it's come to this, there's something you should probably know about me," she said. "I wasn't born as Zelda, and I was never supposed to be a princess."

A chord of understanding began to resonate within Ganondorf's heart. "If you're not a princess, then who are you?" He slowly pulled himself out of her body and lay down next to her before gathering her in his arms.

"When I was a girl, my name was Lanayru," she answered, her head resting under his chin. "I was the daughter of the Duke of Faron. He loved the lake he would always cross on his way to Hyrule Castle, so much so that it became my namesake. I grew up on an estate between the ocean and the forest, and I thought I would spend my life there. It was an idyllic childhood, but I always wanted something bigger, something more. I should have been careful what I wished for. I wasn't exaggerating when I said this kingdom is falling apart. When the king was assassinated, my father assumed the throne, and I became a princess. He fell to a conspiracy shortly thereafter, yet here I remain."

"But I'm not a Zelda," she continued. "The scions of the true line of the Hylian kings are known by their golden hair and boundless optimism, and I have neither. I was given the name 'Zelda' to legitimize my position, but ever since I took up residence in this castle I was compared to what I should be, always unfavorably. I'm too old for such things now, but the insults still sting. If my court is to be believed, I have no more right to be here than you do."

"Then I was misled," Ganondorf said, smiling as he kissed her hair. "I thought I'd made a conquest of Hyrule's princess."

Zelda kissed his neck, her lips cool on his skin. "You're an imposter too, you know. You were supposed to be Ganon. You were supposed to be the calamity that brought my people together, but here you are warming my bed. What will become of Hyrule?"

Ganondorf stroked Zelda's back as he considered her words. He could not tell her that he already possessed a Hyrule that she would never see, a Hyrule that now existed only in his memories. His Hyrule had been destroyed, and when it fell her Hyrule had been created. At first he did not know whether he intended to crush this kingdom or claim it as his own, but he had come to see that Hyrule belonged just as much to him as it did to her, even if neither of them had any legitimate claim to it. With his very existence he challenged Hyrule, and because of his existence it was reconstructed.

"If I'm not Ganon, then what am I?" he asked her.

"Perhaps you were, once. The Sword of Sages seems to have separated Ganon from your body, but you still carried it with you through the Twilight. Now that you've brought it back, it's free once again. Maybe it will possess someone else this time," Zelda explained. "Maybe it will possess me," she added in a smaller voice.

"Would you like that?" Ganondorf found the idea strangely arousing.

"I suppose a hero would need to defeat me," Zelda responded as she trailed her fingers along the stiffness forming against her thigh.

"It would be an honor to face you in battle," Ganondorf growled, leaning forward to kiss her.

"Hey, did someone mention needing a hero?" a voice broke into the room.

"Midna!" Zelda gasped. She grabbed a pillow to hide herself. Before she could stop him, Ganondorf jumped off the bed and made straight for the mirror framing a glowing image of Midna's face.

"How dare you!" he roared. "Cross over into this world and I will give you something worth watching."

"Calm down, big guy. I just opened the connection. I was worried about Zelda." She scowled at him. "As I should be."

"How very like you to lurk in the shadows."

Midna shrugged. "You see some interesting things from the shadows. For example," she smirked as she glanced down to his waist, "they certainly don't make them like that anymore."

"You infernal woman, don't think you're safe just because – "

Zelda coughed, and Ganondorf and Midna whipped around to face her. She had managed to dress herself, and she threw Ganondorf's shirt at him. He caught it and pulled it over his chest.

"Zelda!" Midna beamed from the mirror. "It's good to see you in one piece. Your hair's a little messed up, though."

"Oh, I..." Zelda hurriedly ran her hand back from her forehead.

"Just kidding. It looks like you two are getting along, so I'll leave you alone. I think I figured out a solution to your pig problem, so get in touch when this swine leaves, okay?"

"If you have something to say about Ganon, you will say it in front of me," Ganondorf demanded.

"It has nothing to do with you. You've already caused enough trouble, don't you think?"

"It's fine if he's here," Zelda interjected, laying a hand on his arm.

"Listen," Midna said as she rolled her eyes, "I think you two have other matters to attend to at the moment, and I'm not too terribly interested in talking to people who aren't wearing any pants. I just wanted to say that I heard about what happened in Kakariko this morning."

A troubled look crossed Zelda's face. "How...?"

Midna waved her hand. "You never tell me anything, so I talk to Telma." She laughed at Zelda's shocked expression and continued. "Anyway, if Ganon has showed up again, just send it here. We Twili have enough magic to keep it out in the Twilight wastes. In the meantime, Link is getting restless, and maybe this will give him something to do."

"This is preposterous. You just want to keep the boy with you," Ganondorf spat at her.

"Maybe I do. And who can blame me? I have good taste, unlike your finacée."

"Midna." Zelda raised her voice. "Could we have this conversation later?"

"Right, right. I get it." Midna grinned. "I'll give you some privacy and, you know, let you get back to it. But you!" She pointed a finger at Ganondorf. "Don't think you're off the hook. I'm watching you. From the shadows, boyfriend."

Midna's image winked out. Ganondorf's shoulders slumped, and he allowed his shirt to fall open. Zelda exhaled, and he shot her a glance.

"After all the trouble I went through to get you undressed," he grumbled.

"Oh sweet Nayru, did you just make an actual joke?" Zelda tilted her head, and the corner of her mouth lilted upwards in a grin. "Will this night get any stranger."

Ganondorf walked to her and began unbuttoning her shirt. "I hate that woman, but I'm glad to have her assistance."

"Her assistance?"

"In taking care of our pig problem, as she put it."

Zelda covered his hands with hers. "Our problem?"

Ganondorf raised his eyebrows. "We're getting married in a week, aren't we?"

"I suppose we are. That was an excellent strategy, if I do say so myself."

Zelda laughed, and Ganondorf pulled her to him. Hundreds of years of Hyrule's past weighed heavily on his every thought and movement, and as long as he remained here he would never be able to fully cast off this burden. His fury would always live within him, as would every name of his fallen comrades. Hyrule was vast, however, as was the world beyond its borders, and somewhere the descendants of his tribe lived on. If this woman, clever and wise as she was, could shine light into the darkness of the road ahead of them, then so be it. He understood that their relationship would be difficult, but he had never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Will you take me, then?" he asked her.

"Gladly," she answered. "It will be an adventure."

He kissed her then, and she opened her arms to accept him.


End file.
